Supernatural: Legend of the Wild West
by Mr.Dr.Dude
Summary: Long before the Winchesters, other hunters helped tame the wilderness and the creatures found there. John Carver, a retired hunter who sold his soul for his family, gets approached by a demon with a deal to good to refuse. All john has to do is recover some souls that managed to escape hell and he can keep his soul. How can he refuse?


_Author's Note: This is merely a little taste of what I have planned. This is my first fic I'm actually taking seriously so feel free to let me know what you think. It's set in the same universe as our favorite brothers, so same basic rules apply to the world here. hope you enjoy, and please leave a review, any feedback will be richly appreciated._

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One dark and moonless night, the stars glittering over the barren desert, there was a rumble coming from deep within the earth. The rumble started only as a minor tremor, hardly disturbing the desert, but grew steadily. The shaking increased in strength and with a cracking sound the earth split. The fissure hissed and seemed to suck in the little light the stars provided. No, it didn't just merely suck light in, it emanated darkness. Vague shapes emerged from the crack before the shaking sealed the earth once more, leaving only a jagged scar. The shaking subsided and the events went unobserved by all but one very irritated rattlesnake.

The shapes that exited the now sealed crack fled the site, scattering on the Four Winds. The snake saw these shapes and slithered back into its hole, irritation forgotten, now replaced with fear. Hours passed uneventfully, the usual desert night regained dominance over the brief otherworldly night that had usurped it so briefly. Sometime near dawn, a man in a suit stood at the spot and stared down at the crack, eyes flashing red with rage. The landscape echoed with one word.

"Fuck!"

* * *

Something felt wrong with the world tonight, at least it did to John Carver. Then again, not much felt right these days. Eleanor sleeping next to him on the bed, that felt right. His little baby girl sleeping in her crib near the bed, that felt right to him too. Having only four months left to spend with them? Now that felt wrong to him. That wrongness is what kept him up so often these nights, but it was something different tonight. Tonight had been one of the few times he slept peacefully these last eight months, but something other than the crying of his child woke him from a dead sleep. He couldn't quite place it, but for a moment it felt like something had happened, something not of this world. Realization hit him like a sack of bricks.

"Ah hell." He muttered as understanding dawned on him. That feeling was one he felt many times before, and he knew just what it meant. Darkness walked the earth, nothing terribly new with that, but for him to be able to feel it, something big happened. _Shit,_ he thought, _I'm supposed to be done with that._

All his life he got those feelings, just like his mama and her kin. They called it sight, said they saw the world a bit different from the normal folk. His mama said it was a gift from god, a weapon against the devil himself and all his minions. His mama said a lot of stuff like that, his uncles just called it their instincts. Either way, a gift from god or just plain gut feeling, they used it to hunt. His pa didn't have it, whatever it was, but he still hunted with John's uncles. They saw it simply, evil walked the earth and it was up to them to kick it's sorry ass back to hell because no one else would do it if they didn't. Mama always gave them a scolding for language, but she basically agreed with them.

John had given all that up though. Now the only thing he hunted was game, and even then he mostly got by on what the farm grew. He had a normal life now, here with his wife and daughter. He had bought the farm three years ago when he married Eleanor, a small house, a barn, and a couple of acres of good soil. The first year had been tough, John was not a farmer, but the second year yielded crops aplenty, and this year looked like it would be better than last. The next year? Well, he wouldn't live long enough to find out.

All thoughts of sleep abandoned, John gently left the bed, trying not to wake up Eleanor. The soft footfalls of his bare feet against the wooden bedroom floor were the only sound as he went to check on Rose in her crib. She was awake, her eyes staring into his own. A chill ran through John as he wondered if maybe she had felt _that_ too. What if she had what he did, this sight, this _gift_ mama and her kin had? If she did, what would that mean for her? A life not know what the hell it was? He wouldn't be around to tell her about it, teach her to put it to use, and he feared no one else would. Would she grow up thinking she was crazy? Would it drive her crazy? He shuddered to think about what that life would be like for her. It had been rare, but he had seen people who had something similar to what he did, only they never had an upbringing like his. They were gibbering messes, and called crazy so many times they believed it themselves. One woman had burned her eyes in order to stop seeing. She could see what a demon really looked like, ugly as sin how she described it, and it brought her nothing but mockery and violence. He supposed he could be like the others, the ones who lost it. He'd seen that too, people who had a gift but never used it and in the end lost it. they were the ones who didn't believe, or were taught not to believe and ignored it into nothingness. He didn't know which option disturbed him more, her suffering from it, or it fading into nothingness.

A feeling ran through him, similar to, yet different from the one he had before. Was it just his imagination, or did Rose's eyes flicker towards the window just then? He couldn't tell, but what he could tell was there was something outside, his gut told him that much. He slipped along the wall, hands gliding over the wallpaper as he made his way to the window. Cautiously he glanced outside, trying not to be noticed by whatever was out there. It knew he was there, he just didn't want it to know that he knew it was there. The near pitch blackness of the night cloaked the figure in shadows, and had John been anybody else, he wouldn't be able to make out much more than that, but he wasn't anybody else, and his family always had decent night vision. John gritted his teeth as he made out a suit and a familiar figure.

He grabbed his gun from the drawer near the bed, pulled on a pair of trousers, and stealthily made his way down the stairs. He halted at the door, hand gripping the revolver tightly. Why did he have to be here? Why was he hear now? They had a deal, and he shouldn't be trying to collect for another four months. John opened the door and pointed his gun at the figure.

"What are you doing here Cavendash?" He growled out, hand steady as a rock as he aimed right between the figure's red eyes.

"Is that anyway to greet a person?" Purred Cavendash, completely unphased by the weapon pointed at his head.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated. He didn't bother with anything as dramatic as cocking his gun, it was cocked well before he opened that door.

"What, I can't just drop in and visit an old friend? I'm hurt John." The smirk on his face never wavered.

"God damn it, we had a deal!" The gun trembled in his hand for a moment.

"Yes, our deal, just what I wanted to discuss, how would you feel about..." he paused, searching for the right word, "...renegotiating?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, I find myself in an unfortunate situation and find myself in need of services of someone with a certain skillset. Someone like you for instance."

"I might have sold myself to you, but I'll be damned before I work for the likes of you."

"First, I can't help but comment on your poor word choice. Second, I'm willing to do something about that, if you are willing to reconsider that statement John." Cavendash smirk fell enough to almost became something one could described as businesslike.

"What are you saying?" John meant what he said, he really did, he would have blown this pompous bastard's goddamned head off if he thought it would do any good. Hell, he still might put some lead between those eyes just because it would make him feel a bit better.

"I'm saying that I'm willing to renegotiate our contract, which I must say I gave you one hell of a deal, two lives for the price of one? Try finding another crossroads demon who'll give you that kind of a deal!" That smirk returned to his face.

"Get to the point."

"So impatient John. As I was saying, as much as I would love to have your..." His eyes went glanced up and down John. "...soul, I am willing to let you keep it in exchange for doing something for me. The best part is all you have to do is return to the family business."

"… I'm listening."

"It has come to my attention that some very nasty spirits have started making a nuisance of themselves out west, and being the civically minded individual I am, I would like you to take them out for me." There was something very fishy about this, and John didn't need some gut instinct to tell him that. It didn't take a genius to figure out that there was more going on.

"What do you get out of this?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you think I have ulterior motives." John just stared him down. "Fine, if you're going to be no fun about this I'll just tell you. These aren't just any spirits, these are souls that have escaped hell. MY souls John, and I want them back. They're the worst of the worst, beautiful examples of how twisted a human soul can be and still be called human."

"Why not just get them yourself?" His eyes narrowed.

"I'm a businessman John, I have a job to do."

"What about other demons? Or better yet, why not just sic those hellhounds of yours on the bastards?"

"Let's just say I'd rather keep this quiet. I'd much rather not having the others find out about me losing my property. It's embarrassing. Now I'm willing to offer you a suspension of payment, starting now, for as long as it takes to get those souls back, and one you get me the last one, your soul is yours to do whatever you want with, no loopholes, no tricks. What do you say?" He held out his hand.

"Can I think about it?" John lowered the gun.

"No, this is a one time only deal. You walk away, I get your soul in four months." The smirk went full grin, all flashy white teeth and predatory calculation. Part of John believed Cavendash would rip out his throat with those teeth if he wanted to, the other part thought he wouldn't want to get blood on his suit. Hesitantly John reached out his hand.

"I'll need to pay someone to take care of the farm."

"I will of course be more than willing to help accommodate and cover expenses you might have over the course of this business partnership."

"Deal." The pink tinge of dawn had leaked into the dark sky, growing lighter and lighter by the minute.

"Then I'll leave you to get your affairs in order and pack. I'll be back tonight to brief you and help make accommodations for this little trip." And with that, Cavendash was gone, leaving nothing more than a knot in John's stomach. He glanced at the sky, too late to go back to bed headed towards the barn to milk the cows, tucking his gun casually into the waist of his pants. Surprisingly John found himself whistling as he did so. In truth, he felt something he hadn't felt in months; Hope. He had hope for a life, a future where he and his wife could raise their little girl together, and he couldn't help but grin.


End file.
